


swan

by regulardudetier



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regulardudetier/pseuds/regulardudetier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After hours dancing with a stranger lurking in the shadows every night, watching her; observing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	swan

It was something to do on the side. She had part of the training room converted into a studio. There was a barre, there were mirrors, and there was a perfectly solid stained wooden floor. She would go in there late in the evenings or what could even be considered the early morning. She was alone. 

For the first few nights, anyways. 

He watched her. She was a swan, and he the hunter. She moved effortlessly, as if gliding through water. Her poise was perfect; her stance was flawless. And she looked damn good in a leotard. Clint had come across this on his way in from a mission. He heard the powerful sounds of Cesare Pugni; the thunder of Igor Stravinsky; the spirit of Tchaikovsky. All were well too familiar to him now.

She danced for hours, and he would watch until she stopped. It was then that he would silently slip away, as if he had never been there. He wondered what would happen if, one night, he presented himself to her. Would she be angry? Upset? Would she never go to the studio again, knowing that he had been watching her? Often he considered making a crack about it; calling her out on her dancing. He wasn’t stupid. Clint knew the consequences of his actions. 

So that night after a brief shower, he was surprised to find a pair of black ballet shoes sitting in his locker. “I can teach you.” The silky voice came from behind, and he turned to face the red-head. She was wearing a pastel pink robe, with her hair up in a messy bun and painfully white pointe shoes adorning her feet. “It’s called a _pas-de-deux_. A dance for two. It’s very romantic. Very mysterious. I think you could handle that.” Natasha smirked, lowering the robe to reveal her standard leotard. The illustrious Hawk gave out a nervous cough, clearing his throat and attempting to keep his eyes from drifting. 

She directed him where to go. There were quite a few lifts, several turns, and many other moves he had yet to learn the names of. They ended, bodies pressed up against each other and the heat and sweat mixing together into the stench of something more. Both assassins stood statuesque, panting and coughing in the thick air. Natasha wrapped herself around the man, leaning plush lips to ears and whispering sweet words of Russian as he shoved her into the mirrors and sat her on top of the barre with nothing but pure passion and sex to drive both of them to this madness. 

He would later blame all of this on the leotard.


End file.
